Promises Broken
by Bailadora
Summary: Hermione returns to London after being gone for seven years and finds Harry married with a child on the way. What secrets does Hermione's absence hold? And what is Harry's wife hiding? NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Only Lauren, the twins, and the plot are mine. But you already knew that.

A/N: This came to me while I was in church, that's why this chapter sorta takes place in one.

Hermione was late. She may have been a genius when it came to magic but Muggle transportation was not her forte. She cracked open the heavy church door and stepped inside the small opening, trying not to disturb the congregation. Most of the pews were already full so she slipped as quietly as she could into the very last row. The only other occupant was a snoring old lady with pure white hair. Hermione sunk to her knees and said a quick prayer before returning her attention to the preacher's sermon.

She hadn't been to church since she lived with her parents and that had only during the summer, but somehow she still remembered the hymns that were being sung. When everyone else filed up to the front to receive communion she stayed seated, though she did throw a fiver in the collection, and with a glance at the sleeping woman beside her, threw another in for her as well.

XxXxX

Harry heard the old oak door creak open and he snuck a glance over his shoulder to see who had come in late. In their small parish everyone knew everyone else, but this young woman was out of place here. Something about her bushy hair made his heart jump uncomfortably.

He tried to push her out of his mind. He turned to the woman standing next to him.

She was beautiful with her glossy brown hair and chocolatey eyes. She had a small beauty mark at the corner of her mouth, which twitched, when she noticed him watching her. Harry's eyes roamed the rest of her body, from the curves under her red silk shirt to the long legs in tight black pants. He followed her arms to her hands, which rested on the shoulders of her daughters, identical twins. A large diamond ring encircled the fourth finger of her left hand.

"Harry pay attention," she whispered to him.

Harry smiled and looked back to the front of the church. He hadn't stepped foot in one since he had started dating Lauren and now that they were married he attended every weekend. He didn't like it very much and his mind often wondered. Now it was back with the mysterious woman who had arrived late. She seemed familiar and it was bothering him.

After the service, Harry ushered the three girls that made up his new family out of the church and into the sunlight, all the while keeping an eye open for the bushy brown hair. He knew he should just let it go but for some reason he couldn't.

Lauren was chatting with some friends and the twins were chasing a few boys around. Harry listened to his wife's conversation without contributing to it. The oddly familiar brown hair caught his eye.

"Baby, I'll be right back." Lauren waved him on, unconcerned.

Harry followed the woman to the bus stop, squinting at her and trying to figure out how exactly he knew her. She was muttering under his breath, glaring at the old men that already occupied the bus stop bench. Her body language made something in his brain click.

"Hermione?"

XxXxX

Hermione whipped around at the sound of her name, completely forgetting the two old-timers that had just come on to her. A man with a shock of jet-black hair and brilliantly emerald green eyes stood before her.

"Harry," she breathed. They stared at each other for a moment before Hermione ran forward and embraced him in a huge hug. She stepped back and held him at arm's length. "I haven't seen you in forever."

"Yeah, I know." He looked the same, she decided. He still had the scar, though it had faded slightly over the time since Voldemort's death. A green sweater that complemented his eyes perfectly covered his muscular chest and dressy jeans completed the outfit.

They still hadn't said anything more when a woman Hermione didn't know joined them. "Harry? Who's your friend?"

"I, uh – Lauren, this is Hermione Granger. We went to school together. Hermione, this is Lauren... my wife." Harry seemed to find the situation a little awkward. Lauren stuck out her hand and Hermione shook it. She was stunning and Hermione was not at all surprised that Harry had made her his wife.

"Mommy! Mommy we want to show you something!" Two small girls with identical brown bobbed hair and pastel green dresses ran up to them and pulled at Lauren's shirt.

"Excuse me," she said with an apologetic smile as the girls pulled her away from Harry and Hermione.

"You're married." Hermione didn't know what to say or how to feel. She hadn't seen or even heard from Harry for seven years.

"Yeah, almost four years." He wouldn't meet her gaze.

"They're adorable," she said, watching as the twins dragged their mother over to a small garden and pointed out a few bright flowers.

"They're not mine," he replied, watching them as well.

"Oh?"

"Well," he smiled sheepishly, "_that _one's mine."

Harry didn't have to explain himself. It was quite obvious that Lauren was pregnant.

Harry's family joined them once again. "Ready to go?" Lauren asked.

"Sure, I'll catch up with you in a sec." Lauren and the girls walked over to a small red car parked on the street. "Do you – do you want to get a coffee or something? I mean, are you going to be in town for a while?"

Hermione nodded. "I'd love to get coffee." She grabbed a piece of paper out of her purse and wrote her phone number down on it. "See you around."

"Yeah. See you around." He headed over to his car without looking back. Hermione watched him help one of the girls into her car seat and then take his place behind the driver's wheel, looking both ways before pulling out of the parking space.

Hermione returned to the bench to wait for her ride. The men were gone now; the bus must have come while she was talking to Harry. She didn't mind that she had missed it though. She needed some time to think.

It was just her luck that in her first few days since she had returned to London she had met up with Harry. And that Harry had gotten married. And that Harry was going to be a father.

And that she was getting on a bus that would take her back to her empty apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry was on autopilot for the rest of the day. He took the girls to the park near their house while Lauren was making dinner. The girls begged him to push them on the swing, but they soon grew tired of that and Harry followed them as they swung across the monkey bars.

After awhile, he sat done on a bench and watched them chase each other around the playground. It was a beautiful day – the blue sky was dotted with fluffy white clouds, the sun shone through the leaves on the trees, a calm wind rustled his hair…

He allowed his mind to wander. Hermione was back. The last time he had seen her they had been–

A strangled cry broke through his thoughts. Startled, he looked up and found one of the twins sitting on the ground clutching at an elbow with tears streaming down her face while the other stood a few feet away, terrified.

Harry snapped back into father mode, the small child the only thing occupying his mind. He rushed over to her side and knelt down next to her, her small sobs ripping at his heart.

"Becka, are you alright sweetie?" Harry placed a finger under his illegitimate daughter's chin and tipped her head up so he could see into her tear-filled eyes. She shook her head, her lip quivering.

"Baby, show Daddy where it hurts." Becka unfolded her hands from over her knee to reveal a small scrape. It wasn't much, but seeing the slightly bloodied skin make Becka burst into tears again.

"Shh… you'll be alright." Harry bent over the small wound and kissed it lightly, causing Becka to giggle. He picked up the girl in his arms and stood. "Ready to go home?" She nodded again.

"Bethany?" The other girl followed, tears shining in her own eyes as she felt her sister's pain.

With one arm still holding Becka close to him, he reached down and took Bethany's small hand in his. Together, they made their way back home.

XxXxX

Hermione unlocked the door to her apartment – a small one-bedroom deal on the third floor of a crummy complex. She dropped her bag onto the couch, startling a sleeping Crookshanks who leapt up and hissed menacingly at her.

She sighed loudly and headed for the kitchen. Even Crookshanks wasn't happy with her. Hermione would have been if she were him, too. Hell, _she_ was mad at herself. If only she hadn't left, if only she had stayed and let things work themselves out…

No. She wouldn't let herself think like that. She had _had _to leave and – no, she was not going to wallow in self-pity.

But that was exactly what she did. She made herself a steaming cup of tea, squirting more honey than necessary in it before making her way back to the main room and plunking herself down on the couch next to Crookshanks, who had returned and was now sleeping. She stared out the window at the crappy view of the small, weedy courtyard. She looked at the room opposite her and scowled at what she saw. A passionate couple had gotten caught up in the moment and had left their curtains open.

Hermione turned away quickly, tears beginning to well in the corner of her eyes. She flipped through the television channels but couldn't find a good selection. She dumped her unfinished tea into the sink and went into her room, crawling under the covers a good three hours before dark. She was not able to find sleep.

XxXxX

"Wow Lauren. This is – this is really nice."

Harry looked around the dinner table with hungry appreciation. He had been surprised and slightly angry when he had come home to find the table laden with chicken nuggets and French fries. He had sat down nonetheless though. Food was food. But when Lauren didn't set a plate down in front of him, he was utterly confused.

"Yours comes later," she had whispered.

He stayed seated and Lauren joined him. They listened as Becka retold her epic tail about the 'ouchie' on her knee with Bethany joining in occasionally. The sun had sunk below the horizon when the girls were finally finished eating, but they weren't tired just yet. Harry offered to play a quick board game with them and they hurried upstairs to fetch the perfect one while Lauren returned to the kitchen. An hour later the girls were up in their bedroom, fast asleep.

Now, Harry looked from the food on the table – a pork roast, mashed potatoes, asparagus – to his wife who was wearing a beautiful red sundress.

"What is all this for?" Harry asked, suddenly worried that he had forgotten something. His worry turned out to be true.

"It's our fourth anniversary." She didn't look upset though.

"Shit. I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot, I'm such an idiot."

"Harry, no, it's okay. You've been busy lately."

Harry smiled, grateful that he was forgiven, though he couldn't figure out what he had been so busy with. His job at the local bank was hardly stressful and he hadn't had much on his mind lately. Well apart from Hermione–

He swiftly walked over to the other side of the candle-lit table where Lauren was standing. He pulled out the chair for her and surprised, she sat down. He grabbed her cloth napkin and placed it on her lap. He did the same for himself.

Lauren poured themselves both large glasses of wine. Harry cut up the meat and they passed bowls of vegetables back and forth. Neither said very much, but the silence was not uncomfortable. Finally, when both of their plates were filled with the still steaming food, Lauren raised her glass.

"To us."

"Yes, to us." Harry chinked his glass against hers, remembering how she had smiled the first time they had toasted themselves, her in a frilly white dress, him in a tux…

They ate in a peaceful silence, empty save for the scrapes of silverware against china and their murmurs of appreciation for the delicious meal.

Harry couldn't help but notice once again how drop-dead gorgeous his wife was. She had beautifully carved cheekbones and perfectly arched eyebrows. Her hair, always silky smooth, cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders. Her lips, not to thin and not to full, always seemed to be curved upward in a smile. And he knew from experience that what lay under the fabric of her dress was just as impressive, from the smooth porcelain skin of her stomach to her muscular legs to her pedicured toes. But it wasn't just her looks that were beautiful. She was a great person as well. She had never raised her voice with him, they had never really been in a bad fight. She was always there to listen to him, to encourage him, to talk for him when he had no words. Harry knew that he didn't deserve her. He knew everything about her and she knew hardly anything of him. Of the _real _him, that was.

The flames flickered, casting around odd shadows. "Are you okay Harry?"

Realizing that he had been staring at her for the better part of the last five minutes, Harry nodded. He looked down at his plate and smiled sheepishly. All of the food that had been on it was gone. Lauren's was gone, too. Harry helped her to clear the table. They left the dirty dishes in the sink and headed upstairs.

Harry stripped down to his boxers and moved over to Lauren. He unzipped the back of her dress, letting his fingers brush against the bare skin he uncovered. Lauren shivered at his touch. Her dress fell to the floor and she stepped out of it, turning to face Harry.

"Those new?" Harry asked.

Lauren looked down at her bra and panties. The bra was lacey black fabric with a small white rose in the center of each cup. The panties had the same white rose on the elastic band. She nodded.

"I like 'em," Harry said. It wasn't a total lie, but he wasn't really in the mood. He knew Lauren was expecting sex though, and he didn't want to disappoint her. Plus, though he hadn't been in the mood during dinner, the sight of the half-naked woman before him would have been enough to arouse anybody. Ever since she had gotten pregnant, the sex they had had been wonderful. She was a different person every night and Harry wanted to see who she would be today. Anyway, she was nearing the last month of her pregnancy and the doctors had warned them about the risks that having sex brought during that crucial time.

So, without another thought of hesitation, Harry stepped over to his wife, wrapped his arms around her, and pressed his lips to hers. They made their way over to the bed and Harry vaguely noticed the blue satin sheets. Lauren had gone far out of her way to make this night special and Harry was determined not to ruin it.

He desperately wanted to make sweet passionate love to her, but somehow, his heart wasn't in it. He found himself imagining that her smooth black hair was bushy and brown, that her creamy white face was sprinkled with freckles…

Terrified at the things he was thinking, and the effect that they were having on the certain part of his body that hadn't been cooperating earlier, Harry removed his lips from Lauren's and kissed her bulging belly. A small bump startled him and he realized that the baby was kicking. Lauren giggled. Smiling, Harry was almost certain that his heart was back where it belonged, and, surprising Lauren, he made love to her again, though this time he was positive that it was full of passion.

A/N: So who wants to know why Hermione left? And what was going on between the two of them before she left? Review and you will find out. In the meantime… I think I should probably figure out the answers to those questions…

If a quiz is quizzical, what's a test? I have a whole list of stupid stuff like that. If you want it let me know and I'll e-mail it to you.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry stared at the crumpled bit of paper that he held in his hands. He had been sitting at the kitchen counter for the last half an hour, an untouched glass of water beside him. He couldn't decide what to do.

Should he or shouldn't he?

Sighing, he set the paper down and rested his head in his hands. Even though the house was oddly quiet he was developing a killer headache. Lauren was at a conference for work and the girls were at pre-school. Sunlight filled the kitchen with cheerful light, though Harry was feeling anything but. He picked up the phone and dialed.

XxXxX

The phone rang, startling Hermione out of her thoughts. She wanted to let it ring, to make the person on the other end leave her alone to think, but the prospect of the caller being Harry sent her scurrying for the phone. Crookshanks hissed at her as he fell to the floor from off her lap, forgotten. Hermione breathlessly answered.

"Hello?"

"Hermione?"

She was guiltily overjoyed to hear the masculine voice from the other end.

"Hermione? You there?"

"Sorry. Yeah, I'm here Harry."

Neither said anything for a moment. Hermione wondered if Harry's heart was pounding as fast as hers. Maybe he could even hear hers through the phone.

"Harry?"

"Right, umm – so I was wondering. Do you want to go get that coffee? I mean –"

Hermione cut him off. "I'd love to."

Harry sounded relieved. "Good. So do you know where Solid Ground is?"

Hermione nodded, forgetting that Harry couldn't see her. She was beginning to loose herself in his voice, remembering the way it used to be.

"Mione?"

"Hmm? Oh, right. Yeah, I know where it is." Solid Ground was just a few blocks down from her apartment complex.

"I'll see you there in twenty minutes?"

"Sure," Hermione replied, but the line was already dead.

XxXxX

By the time Harry hung up the phone a thin sheen of sweat had collected on his forehead. His heart had found itself a new home somewhere just below his Adam's apple. Picking up the glass of water, he drained it in one gulp but his mouth was still parched.

It was amazing what Hermione could do to him. He didn't want to think about the special times that they had shared. He was married. He didn't need to be remembering what it had been like to be with Hermione. Anyway, she had left him with a broken heart. There was no room for her now.

He wondered vaguely why he was even going to see her.

XxXxX

Hermione had less than twenty minutes to ready herself for her date with Harry. _No, _she thought, _not date. Just a… meeting. That was the word – meeting._

Nonetheless, Hermione found herself ripping clothes off hangers out of her closet and out of drawers. Her room was a disaster by the time she found the perfect outfit, a casual pair of jeans and a tee shirt emblazoned with a griffin. She had found it at Target and had had to have it. She ran into the adjoined bathroom, swept a bronze powder over her lids and completed the look with black mascara. She pulled her hair back into a low pony, grabbed her bag, and ran out the door.

XxXxX

Harry sat around at home for a few more minutes before leaving. He decided to walk to the coffeehouse; he only lived a few minutes away. He wondered what it was going to be like to see Hermione again. It had been different to see her at the church, unexpected. Now he felt like a teenager going out on a first date.

_But it's _not _a date,_ he tried to reassure himself. _I'm happily married. I am happily _married.

XxXxX

Hermione was surprised to find that she was the first to arrive. There weren't very many people occupying the chairs of the small shop and she easily found an empty place by the window. She ordered a latte and waited eagerly for Harry, not taking her eyes from the street outside for a second. Finally she spied his untidy mass of black hair. His head bobbed above everyone else's. Her heart leapt at the familiar sight.

_Stop, stop, STOP! _she told it. It didn't listen.

XxXxX

Harry stepped inside and looked around. Hermione was watching him from where she sat by the window. He couldn't help but smile at her. She smiled back warmly. Harry went to the back of the shop and ordered his coffee (black, thanks) and slowly made his way over to the table, careful not to spill the hot liquid on himself.

He sat down. They stared at each other, each hungrily taking the other in. There were changes in Hermione. She had grown into her sharp cheekbones and her nose looked as though it might have been broken at one time or another. She had a small scar on her chin. Harry wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been looking as closely as he was. Her eyes were no longer a deep brown, they now had green around the pupils and gold flecks in the irises glinted in the sun. Her hair was less bushy, a little wavier, and she had a few natural-looking highlights. Harry wondered how he himself had changed.

"Hi," she said finally. Her voice shook slightly.

"Hi."

More staring.

"So…" With a start, Harry remembered just how long it had been since he had seen her. "So how have you been?" he asked coolly, his heart which had been soaring now hardened towards her.

"Harry, don't be like this," she said, sensing his discontent. "I had to leave."

Harry just frowned at her, shaking his head at her.

"Harry, please listen."

"I am listening," he replied apathetically.

Hermione seemed startled by his harsh demeanor. "I, well – what do you want to hear?"

"Everything. Starting with why you left me."

A/N: Argh, a bit shorter than the others. Ah, well, I need a little more time to think this one through. I don't want to rush it and give it a crappy plot. Don't worry, though, I pretty much know what's gonna happen next. So in the meantime, REVIEW!!! Please? I wasn't sure if this chapter was any good and if you don't like it let me know and I'll scrap it and start over.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry waited for Hermione to answer. Though he was eager for her reply, he waited as patiently as he could for her to compose a reply. He studied her face will she gathered her thoughts. She was breathing in short bursts and her downcast eyes traveled rapidly back and forth across the table, not taking in what she was seeing. Her hands, which rested on the table, clenched and unclenched and she unconsciously picked at the skin on her thumb. Finally, as Harry was just clearing his throat to restate the question, Hermione took a quick sip of her coffee and spoke.

"I – I'm just going to tell you everything." Harry nodded. "Start at the beginning, I guess. I'm not sure how much you already know, so I'll just… tell you everything." Her voice trailed off. She swirled the contents of the Styrofoam cup and took another sip. Someone left, the door banging closed, the bell tinkling quietly.

Hermione frowned into her coffee. She wouldn't meet Harry's gaze. "It started when you left to destroy the last–" she finally looked up and glanced around to make sure that no one was listening "–Horcrux. What was that, like April of our seventh year?"

Harry didn't reply. He didn't want to interrupt her thoughts.

"Yeah, I think it was April. I can still remember finding the note that you had Lavender leave on my bed. The note that told me you were leaving and that you didn't know when you would be back. Harry, you were always so positive through all of that. You never doubted that you would come back safe. You just figured that you would destroy the damn thing and be back in a few days." Her voice was shaking.

Harry silently disagreed with Hermione. While he had never voiced his concerns out loud to Ron and Hermione, he had been scared shitless to leave.

"The rest of us weren't so sure that you would ever come back. It was so hard on us, me and Ron. To wake up one morning and find you gone, just like that. Poof! We had no idea where you were or who you were with. For the first three days we were fairly certain that you would be back. Everyday we watched for owls, but none came. We scoured the Daily Prophet, was there was never any mention of you or of Voldemort. After a week and a half, Harry, we just gave up. It killed Ron to do it. Neither of us wanted to admit that we wouldn't see you again, so we didn't. It was sort of an unspoken thing between us.

"The night that marked a week and a half that you were gone – it was beautiful. The evening sky was brilliant, orange on the bottom and pink up higher, with purple and blue on top of that. We took it as a sign from you that we had to let go. So we did.

"We went down to the lake and sat on the shore for a while. Ron threw stones into the water and I sat back and watched the stars as they began to come out. I remembered how much you hated Astronomy, but how much you loved to watch the stars. You even taught me a ton of consolations. Remember?"

Harry did.

"Pretty soon the sky turned a deep violet, then finally a velvety blue. It was beautiful Harry. The moon was huge and full and seemed to fill the entire sky above me. It reflected down and was mirrored in the lake. Ron had waded out to his knees, still throwing stones, but they were getting bigger and bigger until her was heaving rocks that were bigger than his head. He was so frustrated."

Harry couldn't help asking, "At what?"

Hermione looked up at him, and their eyes locked together. Harry was uncomfortable, but he found that he couldn't look away. He was riveted to her chocolate-brown orbs.

"At you I suppose." She frowned. "The fact that he hadn't been with you. That he wasn't there to help you. At life in general. I think he felt that it was his responsibility to look after you. Everyone was always telling him to watch out for you and he thought that he failed at it. But mostly that he failed you. It was really bad. I was worried about him for awhile. Everyone was."

She stopped and finished off the last dregs of her coffee. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and Harry suspected that she had tears in her eyes and didn't want him to know. He could feel the sharp pain that holding tears in caused behind his own eyes. And he had thought that Hermione's absence was the reason behind everything when in fact, he himself had been most of the problem.

"Anyway, Ron came back up to the shore from the lake and we started talking about you, sharing memories. We couldn't believe how many things you accomplished in your life. More than we ever hoped to."

She noticed the confused look on Harry's face.

"Harry, in your first year, you fought the most evil wizard alive. Alone. In your second year, you killed a basilisk. In your third year, you learned even more horrible things about you past than one would read in a particularly twisted novel. And you did it without losing complete control of the situation. In our fourth year, you fought Voldemort again, and lived to tell about it, keeping yourself collected enough to grab our dead classmate before returning." Her voice was growing stronger with each recollection.

Harry had gotten her point after 'second year' but let her continue, not because he needed to hear this for his own self-esteem, but because Hermione seemed to be growing more and more comfortable with him. He thought that she was probably remembering him now as the Harry Potter, classmate and best friend, rather than Harry Potter, married man and soon-to-be father.

"Fifth year you came face to face with Him yet again _and_ lost the person closest to you and still managed to make sure that He didn't get the prophecy. You witnessed the death of yet another loved one in sixth year. And in seventh – you sacrificed yourself so that all of us could live. Or so we thought."

She was finally finished retelling his past. Harry was grateful; he was getting slightly embarrassed.

"It wasn't just those things about you that Ron and I remembered. We talked about your Quidditch achievements and the DA. We talked about how much you hated homework and how much you loved Fred and George's joke shop. How you laughed when I found out about Dobby taking all my hats and how hard you worked to pass N.E.W.T. Potions. You were amazing, Harry."

He felt himself blushing at the complement.

"Ron and I both ended up crying. Then our arms were around each other."

Harry had a feeling that he didn't want to hear what was coming next.

"Then his lips were on mine. And I found myself kissing him back. And before I knew it, we both had lost our clothes and he was on top of me. I was enjoying it.

"I was so confused Harry. I was confused because I had feelings for you."

Silence descended on the table.

"The time that we kissed… it was incredible. I never felt anything like it after that. Not even when Ron and I made love. Well, had sex."

Harry was drawn back into the earlier days of his seventh year. He and Hermione had shared a passion filled kiss once. Hermione wasn't the only one that detected the electricity between them. Harry had just denied that he felt it, too, embarrassed that he had allowed himself to sneak in that kiss.

Ron was at a detention with Snape when it happened. Harry and Hermione were sitting in the empty Common Room waiting for Ron and finishing up their homework. Harry wasn't sure what led into it, but he leaned over and gave Hermione a quick peck on the lips. The taste of her was too much to resist and their lips met again and again until they finally broke apart at the sound of Ron entering the Portrait Hole. Neither spoke a word of the kiss again and no one ever found out.

Harry knew then that he had had deep feelings for Hermione, but he also knew that Ron liked her as well. As Ron had 'made his claim' on her first, Harry tried to tame his feelings the best he could. He knew that Ron didn't have a chance, but he stayed back anyway. He had figured that Hermione kissed him back because she didn't know what else to do. Or because she was bored. He cursed himself for never telling how he really felt.

But it doesn't matter anymore because I'm married. It doesn't matter that Hermione liked me too. And it also doesn't matter that she slept with Ron.

But no matter how much he told himself that, he still felt like strangling the son-of-a-bitch.

A/N: Hopefully this is sufficient. More to come in the next few days.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: 'Kay, this is not going the way I planned. I imagined a whole Harry/Hermione relationship went on at school, but that didn't work out. I have no clue where this is going, so I'm sorry if that it took a little longer than planned to update. Thanks to all my reviewers!

"Mione, I–" He was so close to telling her how he felt about her. No, how he _had_ felt about her. Not anymore. There was no way that he could still have feelings for her.

"What happened next?" he managed to choke out, silently cursing himself that he had come so close to saying something that he didn't mean.

"When I saw you I panicked," Hermione said simply. "I didn't know what to do. I mean, Ron thought that I had made a promise to him when I spent that night with him, but Harry, who I really wanted to be with was you. You were the one that made my heart race, my palms sweat, my tongue tie. You were The One. I just wish I would have realized that sooner."

"Hermione, I know how–" He mentally kicked himself. He was way too far into uncharted territories. Hermione was doing things to his body, things like what she had made him feel during their school years. Things that he hadn't even felt since then, not even with Lauren. Things that made him want to jump over the table and snog her senseless.

"I'm going to go use the bathroom," he excused himself. Hermione just nodded.

He made his way through the small tables towards the back of the coffeehouse, passing a few kissing couples on the way. He stepped into the small lavatory and looked at his reflection in the mirror.

_It's just some old, unresolved_ _feelings. They mean nothing. I love Lauren. I have her and the girls, and that's all I need._

He repeated this mantra a few more times while he splashed cold water on his flushed face. Pretty soon the stirring parts of his body had calmed and he no longer wanted to make out with his ex-best friend. He emerged from the bathroom and headed back towards Hermione, eager to hear more of her absence. He was finding that he was less and less mad at her and angrier at himself. _But it wasn't my fault._

Hermione had ordered herself another coffee. Harry sat, taking this as a sign that there would be more to her story. She sighed and hardly looked at him when he sat down.

"So, I guess you probably want to know where I've been."

Harry nodded.

"All right, well like I said, when you came back I panicked." She smiled wistfully. "It was so heroic how you returned. You always liked to make and entrance, didn't you?"

"Tell me," Harry breathed. He was hardly positive that she even heard him. Of course, he knew what had happened. He just wanted to hear it from someone else. Hermione, in fact, was the one he wanted to hear it from.

"Well, it was the Final Feast and we were all tucking into what we knew would be a delicious meal. Everyone was talking cheerfully, chatting as if nothing was the matter. It seemed that a small section of the Gryffindor table, the Weasley's and me, were the only people in the entire Great Hall that weren't enjoying ourselves.

"And then, there's was a thunderous _crack_ and someone's standing in the middle of the Hall, a bloody body draped over his shoulders. Then they collapsed in a sea of maroon robes. God, I think I almost fainted when I realized it was you. I still have no idea how you managed to make it to Hogwarts, and not be killed in the wards that were there to protect us. Well, anyway, everyone screamed and McGonagall rushed over. I stayed where I was though. Ron had my hand clenched in his so tightly that I could tell the circulation was being cut off. I keep wondering if I would have gone over to your side, if things would have been different."

She paused and lost herself in thought. Harry allowed himself to be lost to the world as well. What would have happened if she had been there next to him when he had woken up? He guessed that they would have kissed, and he probably would have asked her to marry him.

The thought startled him. Asked her to _marry him_? Where the hell did that come from? They hadn't even been dating!

Hermione was speaking again. "You were taken to the Hospital Wing. I didn't follow. Neither did Ron. I feel so horrible about it now."

Harry reached across the table and laid his hand on top of Hermione's. She was in obvious pain recounting all of this. It couldn't help that she had lost him on top of it all.

"That was when people started to realize that there was another body. Hagrid flipped it over with his foot. Well, tried to at least. When he kicked it, it sort of went flying towards the Slytherin table. I think Malfoy nearly wet his pants."

Harry smiled at the thought.

"Well, McGonagall had the decency to move the copse with her wand. When she flipped it over and his face was showing…" she shuddered. "Even the people who had never seen Him before knew that it was Him.

"How did you do it?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. The memories were too painful, the torture he suffered too real. With a jolt he realized that half the torture had been waking up to find that Hermione wasn't there. He closed his eyes and tried to think of anything but what he had gone through.

Hermione didn't speak.

"Maybe… sometime. But not now," Harry said.

"Oh, okay." She didn't sound disappointed or relieved, or _anything._ Her voice held no emotion until Harry asked her to continue with her story.

"We went home the next day. You didn't. Ron invited me to spend the summer with him. I just couldn't do it, Harry. Things were just too messed up. I had to sort out my feelings and thoughts, and the only way to do that was to leave. So I did.

"We had just graduated, so I figured that I would just continue with my education elsewhere. I looked around and decided to go to the States. It sounded like there was a good program there, so I packed my bags and left. I didn't even tell my parents where I was going.

"After I flew into Albany, I headed to downstate New York where the school was."

She stopped, relieving her memories. Harry didn't say anything, just waited for her to speak.

"Oh, Harry it was horrible. I got there, and went to my dorm. There was a guy sitting on my bed. He was huge, and bald, and covered in tattoos. His eyes were blood red and I could tell that he had been smoking something." She shuddered involuntarily.

"Harry, he–" she had tears in her eyes now. "He hurt me so bad, Harry. And I couldn't get away. He made me do things, bad things. And he hurt me so bad." The tears were now freely streaming down her cheeks.

Harry stood up. Hermione watched his progress. He moved around the table and placed a condoling arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close to him. Right now, when she had no one, Harry would be there for her.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: 'Kay, I revised the last chapter. The school that Hermione went to was an actual school, the guy was just waiting for her in her room. Thanks to pstibbons for that.

Hermione wiped the last of her tears away, then picked up her napkin and rubbed under her eyes to get all of the mascara. She couldn't believe that she had just told Harry all of that; she had never told anyone else of her trip overseas. And on top of that, she had pretty much come out and told him that while they were at school she had been in love with him.

Harry's arm was still around her and his warmth was comforting. A few of the couples that sat at the tables around them were staring, but Hermione didn't care. She took one last deep, shuddering breath and turned her blotchy, tear-stained face towards Harry, breaking his embrace. He stayed in the chair next to her instead of moving back across the table. His hand fell from around her shoulders to her arm and, finally, back into his own lap.

She sniffled and smiled. "So, enough about me. What have you been up to?" She wasn't exactly sure that she wanted to go through the pain of hearing the answer, but it was only polite.

Harry grimaced. "Where to start?"

"How about at the beginning?" Hermione suggested.

He let out a half-laugh and nodded. "Yeah, I suppose that would be a good idea."

He was silent for a few moments, swirling around his coffee and gathering his thoughts. "I received an owl from Snape."

Hermione's eyes widened as his words sunk in. "When?"

He took a deep breath. "Before I left."

Hermione didn't speak.

He fiddled with his napkin. "It told me where to find Voldemort."

Hermione could feel that he was holding back, that there was so much more that he wanted to tell her. She wasn't sure if he just didn't trust her or if the memories were painful for him.

"I wasn't sure what to make of it at first," he said slowly. "I mean, Snape had just killed Dumbledore and I wanted to rip his throat out. So I threw the letter down on the nightstand without opening it. It lay there for a few days but it always seemed to be calling to me. I couldn't get it off my mind and it was affecting everything I did, so I finally opened it."

Hermione remembered how distant Harry had been in that final week. Now she knew why.

"He started by telling me that he had had an agreement with Dumbledore, that if the need arose to kill him he should. And Dumbledore asked him to do it. 'Please Severus,' he had said. At the time I thought he had been asking for Snape to spare his life, but now I understand." He paused. "Snape went on to tell me where the last Horcrux was and where Voldemort was currently hiding, and that, for once, he was alone. I suspect that Snape and Malfoy were there at sometime just after killing Dumbledore." Harry's hands clenched into fists. He stopped talking.

"So you went?" Hermione probed.

"I went," he nodded.

"And?" Hermione asked when Harry didn't continue.

"I found the last Horcrux. It was right where Snape said it would be. I destroyed it. Then, taking the fact that Snape had been right about the Horcrux, I went on to find Voldemort. He was exactly where Snape described in the letter. And alone." He wouldn't meet Hermione's eyes. "I trust Snape now."

"Why did you go to find Voldemort? Snape could have been lying."

He thought for a second. "Because I wanted the bastard dead."

Harry kept clenching and unclenching his fists. Hermione took his hand in hers. He allowed her to lace her small fingers through his larger ones. She marveled at how smooth they were, how the nails were all the same length.

"I killed him," Harry said without Hermione asking anything. "I killed him," his voice had dropped and his body was shaking.

"I know, Harry. I know." She hoped her voice was soothing, but she noticed that she was shaking as well. Harry clenched her hand tighter.

"It was… horrible." His voice cracked, but grew stronger with his next words. "It was hell. I was in hell. But I thought of all of you and I did it. I think… I think it was the love that Dumbledore always talked about."

"But Harry, Voldemort had some of your blood. The love from your mother… well he had that, too." Hermione didn't want to hurt Harry, but she couldn't help pointing that out.

"It wasn't just the love from my mother."

"Oh."

Neither said anything. Finally Hermione broke the silence, trying to change the subject to a more cheerful one. Well, more cheerful for Harry.

"Tell me about your family."

Harry's face didn't brighten the way Hermione thought it would. If anything, his frown deepened.

"Harry?"

"Oh, right." Finally he smiled. "I met Lauren at the park, actually. She was there with the girls. I had my dog."

"You have a dog?"

"Not anymore. Lauren's allergic."

"Oh. Sorry, continue." She waved at him to keep going with his story with the one hand that wasn't still grasping his.

"The girls were only about two years old then. They're five now."

"They're adorable," Hermione admitted truthfully.

"Thanks. They're not mine, though. They came from Lauren's previous marriage. They never got to know their biological father, so I guess that in a sense, they _are _mine."

Hermione nodded, disappointed that she wasn't a part of Harry's family.

"Anyway, my dog," Harry was warming up now, talking with more enthusiasm and using his free hand to make gestures, "went up to one of the girls who was running around chasing a butterfly and sniffed her behind! It was the funniest thing! Then the girl fell over and Lauren and I both ran over. And that's how we met."

"That's cute," Hermione said half-heartedly. Harry didn't appear to have heard her.

"We were married four months later."

"And you have a baby on the way."

"Yep." The smile had vanished from Harry's face.

"What?"

"Nothing," the smile was back, but it didn't look very sincere.

"Boy or girl?"

"Not sure yet. We find out in a month."

"Ultrasound?"

"No, that's when she's due."

"Oh." Hermione guiltily dropped his hand. He was married. What the hell was she doing, holding a married man's hand? _It was just a friendly gesture._ Yeah right, and she was the queen of England.

"So what have you been up to, other than making babies? Where do you work?" Hermione asked to get her mind off of her feelings of desire.

"I work at the bank."

"Which is code for…?"

"Um, code for 'I work at the bank?'" Harry wasn't sure what she was talking about.

"So, you have some Top Secret job at the Ministry?" Hermione tried to coax the truth out of him.

"Um, no, I work at the bank." Hermione could tell by the look in his eyes that he was telling her the truth. Well, that explained why his hands looked so nice.

"Oh. So, no job with magic then?"

"They're Muggles."

"Who?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Lauren and the girls."

"You married a Muggle?" She wished she could take back her words when she saw the defensive look on Harry's face.

"Is that a problem?"

"No, of course not." She supposed it fit. He probably needed to get away from magic for awhile after everything that happened to him.

She looked at her watch. "You should probably get going."

Harry nodded. Something in his eyes told her that he didn't want to leave just yet. They stood, and Harry helped her to put on her jacket. Once her arms were in the sleeves, she turned to face him. Their faces were just inches apart.

Hermione wasn't sure who initiated the kiss, just that neither of them seemed to want it to end. Sparks flew across her vision and ever cell in her body seemed to be in tune with the man whose tongue was currently residing in her mouth. Finally, she pulled away, the image of Harry's family in her mind.

"Harry, do you love her?"

He didn't answer.

"You have to choose."

"I made a promise to Lauren. I can't break it." His voice held no emotion, and the hungry look in his eyes told her that he felt otherwise. She didn't care. She turned on her heel and stalked out on the coffeehouse, wondering vaguely where the 'Solid Ground' was with Harry.

A/N: Solid Grounds was the name of the coffee place, remember? It's a pun! Anyway, R-E-V-I-E-W!


	7. Chapter 7

Harry watched Hermione go, unable to comprehend what had just happened. He stared after her, still standing beside the table. Finally, when he could see her no longer, he sunk back into the chair. A waiter came by and Harry ordered another coffee. He had a feeling he would be staying for awhile.

People passed by the window and Harry watched them with unfocused eyes. He had his chin cupped in his hand and was biting his nails without even realizing that he was doing it. He jumped as the waiter set his coffee down in front of him.

_You have no idea what you're doing,_ said a voice in his head. Harry hated himself for it, but he silently agreed. He watched the steam rise from the mug in front of him, mesmerized by the swirling vapor. _But there are some things that I _do _know_, he told himself. _I kissed Hermione. I used to love Hermione. I have a kid on the way. I love Lauren. _

_Do I though?_

Harry liked to think that he did. Actually, he didn't really like to think about it at all. He sighed, running his hands through his hair. The face on his watch read three-thirty.

This was going to be one hell of a long night.

XxXxX

While Hermione had been inside with Harry, dark rain clouds replaced the bright, blue skies. She meandered down the street, lost in the milling crowd. She would not think about Harry.

A single raindrop hit her check and ran down the side of her face. Another followed, and another. Soon she was one of the only people left on the sidewalk; everyone else had run inside to escape the rain.

The rain kept falling and showed no signs of letting up. Hermione didn't care though. She didn't care that her shirt was plastered to her body, her hair slicked against her neck, her shoes squishing in the puddles. She simply didn't care.

An out-of-date dummy in one of the storefront windows caught her eye. The woman's hair was orange and frizzy, her clothes faded and ugly. Hermione sighed.

Seven years was a long time to spend on one thing, only to let it go.

Healing had always interested her, especially the Muggle's way of doing it. The school in the States promised courses in Healing and Nursing, so it seemed too good to be true.

It was.

She had only seen the man a few times during her stay in the States, but those few times were enough to terrify her. Finally he had pushed her too far during one of his visits, hurting her not only physically but mentally as well. She had packed up and left.

She didn't have any friends in the States anyway. No one would miss her. No one would even notice that she was gone.

Which was probably the reason she never told anyone what was going on with the man, why she never got help. There was no one to go to.

But she didn't want to think about that now.

So what was there to think about?

Harry? His kiss had been far too unexpected and enjoyable for comfort. So, no, Harry was not a good thing to think about right now either.

Hermione moved on to the next window. The shop was filled with beautiful gowns and dresses of all colors and shapes. She cupped her hands over a small section of the glass to rid it of the glare and looked inside, picturing herself wearing each and every one of the fairytale dresses.

_But why _can't_ I think about Harry? _she asked herself.

_Because you tend to ignore your true feelings_, a voice answered.

_I do not!_

The voice didn't answer.

_Okay, well maybe sometimes. Since Harry left. But I don't feel like thinking about him right now._

Once again the voice said nothing.

And Hermione realized something.

The voice was right.

XxXxX

Lauren Potter was waiting.

She didn't like waiting yet she had been doing just that since she got home from the office. The girls were long since picked up from preschool and dinner had been ready nearly two hours ago. It was now after eight.

And she was sick of waiting.

Lauren wasn't stupid. She knew that there was more to Hermione Granger than met the eye. It was easy to see that something had gone on between the young woman and Harry at sometime. She wasn't sure what it was, but it worried her.

Harry had always been a good husband. He was a wonderful father to Becka and Bethany. He was always there when needed, and could fix just about anything. He asked questions about her day and managed to keep a steady conversation going, but everything was always about _her_. She knew nothing of his life before they met.

And that caused a major fight between the two of them.

It was the only fight they ever had, but it had almost cost them their relationship. Lauren had asked to hear of Harry's school years. He refused. Lauren persisted, just wanting to know what his favorite subject had been. When he didn't answer, Lauren began to get aggravated. Harry simply would not reveal anything about himself.

So Lauren left.

She stayed with an old friend for a few days until things with Harry had calmed down. Nothing about the fight was ever mentioned again and she no longer probed for answers about his earlier years. The fight had been months ago.

But now Miss Granger was here in London and Harry was acting very differently. He spoke even less than was usual at dinner. He didn't want to make love before going to bed. He wasn't around for the girls.

And it was nearing nine o' clock and he still wasn't home.

Harry never stayed out late. He didn't have very many friends to drink with and his colleagues mostly kept to themselves. And Lauren was sure that if he _was_ planning on staying out, he would tell her.

So where was he?

Lauren watched the second hand travel around the edge of the clock a few more times before rubbing her pregnant stomach, standing, and stretching out her back. She gathered up the girls from where they sat coloring pictures on the living room floor and took them up to bed.

When she came back downstairs, she picked up the drawings from off the floor. Immediately she could tell which picture belonged to which twin. Becka's drawing was of a purple stick-horse standing in a meadow filled with multicolored flowers. Lauren smiled and flipped to Bethany's drawing. It was titled "My Family," the 'M' in family written with three humps instead of two and the tails on both 'Y's' facing backwards.

The picture itself was simple and consisted of five stick figures of varying colors. The tallest was a man with a scribble of black hair and emerald dots for eyes. He held hands with a slightly shorter figure with straight lines of brown hair and a pink dress. Two identical girls stood with an even smaller figure supported between them. The twins and the new baby.

Lauren's eyes misted over with tears. This child was going to enter the most loving family imaginable. She placed a hand on her stomach. "You are the luckiest baby ever," she whispered quietly.

A jangle of keys informed her that Harry was home. It was well past ten.

He stumbled over a chair and threw his shoes into the corner before sinking into the couch opposite Lauren with his eyes closed. He still had not noticed her.

"Where the hell have you been?" Lauren didn't wait to hear his explanation before using coarse language. She was beyond pissed.

His eyes snapped open and he regarded her carefully before answering. "Out." He closed his eyes again and leaned his head back on the couch.

Lauren could sense the tears welling up behind her own eyes, but this time they weren't from the joy the baby brought. They were caused by Harry's disrespect. She blinked the tears away and glared at him. "I know that you were out." Her words dripped with venom. "But what the fuck were you doing?" She was shaking with anger.

"Drinking."

"Harry!" she cried. His name didn't sound human the way it ripped from her lips. He opened his eyes, surprised at her sudden outburst. The tears were streaming freely now. "Harry, I need you. I need you here. With me." She gulped in a breath of air. "I need to know what's happening. I need to know. I need to know who you _are_."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Lauren couldn't stop her rant. "I don't know you, Harry. Who are you? I want to know you!" She was standing now, and well aware that her string of words didn't really make any sense, but they seemed to be having the desired effect on her husband. "I've tried, Harry. I have. You just won't let me in. Why won't you let me in?" Her hands were clenched into fists and Harry no longer looked drunk, now he was nervous. "Who are you, Harry Potter?"

Harry stood and held his arms out to her. "Lauren, I–"

Lauren collapsed forward and Harry caught her. A pain in her stomach told her that something was very wrong. "Oh, god."

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I had really bad writer's block. I know, excuses excuses, but once school get out (which is Thursday!!) I will have tons more time to write. Thanks for all the reviews, and keep them coming!


	8. Chapter 8

"Hermione?"

"I'm here." It was pretty late, so Hermione had no idea why Harry was calling her. She'd been sleeping, Crookshanks purring on her legs and she was still trying to wake up.

"Can I ask you a favor?" Harry's voice sounded rushed and out of breath, like he was moving and talking to her at the same time.

"Sure." She swung her legs over the side of the bed and Crookshanks leapt to the floor.

"Can you come watch the girls?"

"What? Harry it's–"

"I realize it's late, but Lauren's in labor and we have to get to the hospital."

Hermione was at a loss for words. Harry's wife was going to have her baby. Hermione's chance was gone.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah, I'll come."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and gave her directions to the house. "The girls are sleeping. I'll leave a key under the welcome mat. I'll be home sometime tomorrow morning."

They hung up and Hermione went to gather her things. She stayed in her flannel pajamas and packed a bag of toiletries before running out to the cab she'd called.

Harry's house was on the east side of London. It was large and modern looking with magnificent glass windows and an oak front door. Slightly intimidated, Hermione bent down and retrieved the key from under the mat.

The door swung open and Hermione stepped inside.

All was quiet and dark. She probed the walls with one hand for a light switch. She found one and flicked it, bathing the room in a calm glow. Hermione found herself standing in the living room, which was furnished with black leather furniture. A huge plasma TV resided in one corner. Off to the right was the kitchen. Hermione poked her head in. Stainless steal appliances filled the entire room. The counters were black marble, the floors hardwood. Hermione was jealous.

Leading up from the living room was a staircase. Hermione followed it up. The landing was huge, with a hallway leading down to four sets of doors. Just from the art on the walls, Hermione could tell that Lauren Potter had great taste. And held a great-paying job.

Hermione opened one of the four closed doors. The girls slept peacefully in twin beds, oblivious to what was going on. She looked around the room. Unlike the rest of the house, there was much clutter and contrasting colors. The girls' toys were flung around the room, forgotten. "Becka" was inscribed in big box letters on the wall over one sleeping girl, "Bethany" over the other.

Hermione moved over to the girl named Becka and brushed her hair out of her eyes. The girl was adorable with her bobbed haircut and pony pajamas. She was sucking on her thumb. Bethany snored quietly. Hermione placed a hand on the small girl's arm. She was wearing pajamas with clouds, but other than that, she was identical to her twin.

Taking one last look at the girls, Hermione left the room. Seeing them had just reminded her how much she wanted children of her own.

She moved on down the hall and opened the next door. The room smelled of paint, so she let her eyes adjust before searching for the switch. When the room was finally flooded in light, she could she that she was standing in the nursery. The walls were yellow and on one wall the word 'Potter' was spelled out in large green letters. The empty space in front of the letters and the can of green paint on the counter next to her told her that Harry and Lauren were awaiting the baby's sex to finish the name.

An empty crib stood in the middle of the room. A changing table was pushed up against one wall. Everything looked only half finished.

Hermione left the room and headed down to the couch.

The expected loss was tearing a whole in her chest. She was taking in deep, ragged breaths. Harry was really having a child. After this, there would be no room left for her in his life.

She found a blanket in one of the hall closets and spread it across the couch. Lying down, she knew that sleep was not going to come easily. She waited for the inevitable tears to fall. They didn't come.

Yes, the part of her life that had been reserved for Harry was now empty, but somehow she was going to have to come to terms with that. And what better time than the present.

She kicked off the blanket and quietly made her way back up the stairs.

XxXxX

Harry was pacing. There was nothing else he could do.

Four steps.

Turn.

Four steps.

Turn.

He could feel eyes on him. The others in the waiting room were surely getting annoyed with him, but he couldn't help it.

The doctors wouldn't let him in. He had rushed his wife all the way here, had to park in one of the farthest parking spots out, had practically carried Lauren to the hospital entrance.

And now they wouldn't let him in.

He had fought them. He insisted to be admitted.

They told him that, being premature, the delivery was going to be difficult and that they didn't need any extra people in the room, getting in the way.

He hadn't been planning on getting in the way, just holding his wife's hand, but he knew there was no hope when the doors swung shut, him on one side, Lauren on the other.

So he did the only thing he could. He paced.

A doctor strode out from the swinging doors. Harry stopped walking and looked up hopefully. The gray-haired man swept straight past him to a family seated on the plastic waiting room chairs.

"It's a boy!" the doctor announced cheerfully.

Harry scowled and sank back down into a chair of his own.

He was right in his earlier assumption: this was going to be one hell of a long night.

The buzz from the alcohol, the one he had worked so hard to create, was long gone. Lauren's yelling at him had taken care of that.

He thought of Lauren, of the agony she must be in right now, giving birth to a child who may or may not be healthy with help from doctors she didn't know, in a place she had never visited. Without him.

He could almost feel her pain.

His thoughts shifted to the twins, who were probably unaware of the stranger in the house.

Which made him think of Hermi–.

The doors swung open again. Another doctor, this one a woman wearing green surgical scrubs, emerged. "Mr. Potter?"

XxXxX

Hermione found the baby clothes in a cupboard below the countertop in the nursery.

She was going to help this family out. It wasn't her family to help, but that was beside the point.

She took the tiny clothing out of the packaging, folded the tiny unisex outfits, and put them were she would want them had this nursery been hers, had the child been hers.

When all the clothes were set aside, she searched for blankets and padding and made up the crib. She hung the mobile from the ceiling above it and carefully tucked the small blankets around the even smaller mattress. With that done, she set to work on the changing table.

When finished, she looked around the room in satisfaction. Lauren would easily be able to bring to baby home and use the now-finished nursery. Hermione went back down to the couch knowing sleep would be easier to find this time around.

XxXxX

Harry followed the doctor through the labyrinth of hallways and rooms. She led him to a closed door. "She's all yours."

Harry thanked her and entered the room. Lauren lay on the only bed in the cozy room, a small bundle held up to her chest. The blanket the baby was covered in was pink.

Lauren looked up from the suckling child and smiled warmly at her husband. She was glowing with pride. "It's a girl," she whispered.

Harry felt himself swelling with pride as well. He moved closer to the bed and gently pulled down the blanket hiding the baby's head.

What he saw froze him in his tracks.

The small girl's sprinkling of hair was blonde, her eyes blue. Harry looked to Lauren, whose own brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her dark eyes brimming with tears of joy.

Harry straightened stiffly and glanced into a mirror across from the bed. His hair was a mess from running his hands through it; his emerald eyes were showing worry, fear. And anger.

The doctor had been very, very wrong. There was no way the child was his.

A/N: I'm thinking maybe one or two more chapters. Please don't forget to review!


	9. Chapter 9

"Harry, wait!" Lauren called after her husband. He didn't stop.

She watched him walk down the hallway until she could no longer see him. He had said something about the baby not being his, and then left. But if the baby wasn't his, than whose was it? 

Oh, god.

When they had been fighting, she spent some time with an old friend. An old, male friend. That had been about nine months ago.

Shit.

Lauren looked down at the small girl cradled in her arms, the tears now falling freely. "Her name's Lily," she called quietly, but she knew there was no that way Harry could have heard.

XxXxX

Hermione awoke to small footsteps and quiet giggles. She opened her eyes to see two pairs of brown eyes staring right at her. When the girls noticed she was no longer sleeping they jumped back and giggled some more. Hermione sat up and swung her legs onto the floor.

"Who are you?" the bolder of the girls asked. She was wearing pony pajamas, so Hermione had a pretty good idea who she was.

"I'm Hermione Granger. I'm a friend of your daddy's."

"Aren't you gonna ask who I am?" The girl blinked her big, brown eyes shyly at Hermione.

"You're Becka." The girl looked surprised.

"How did you know that?"

Hermione tapped her head in a manner that said she knew lots of things.

"Where's Daddy?" Becka asked.

Hermione patted the couch beside her. Becka and Bethany crawled up to sit next to her. Becka plopped herself down on Hermione's lap.

"Your daddy's at the hospital because you're mommy is having the baby."

"Right now?" Becka was bouncing up and down on Hermione's legs. Bethany still hadn't said a word.

"Right now," Hermione confirmed.

"So, we're gonna have a baby sister?"

"I'm not sure if it's a sister. We'll have to wait until your daddy comes home to find out."

Becka had bounced right off Hermione's lap and was dancing around the living room. Bethany sat on the couch, watching her sister with a look of disdain on her face. Hermione laughed aloud.

"When will Daddy be home?" Becka asked, never ceasing her dancing.

"I don't know. He didn't say."

"Well, I don't think I can wait until he gets home!" Becka came to a stop in front of Hermione. She grabbed her sister's arms and dragged her up to dance as well. Bethany followed her around like a limp rag.

"Come on girls. I know something that will keep you occupied until Daddy gets home." Looking curious, both girls followed her into the kitchen. Hermione searched the fridge and cupboards before finding all the ingredients she needed. "Do you girls like pancakes?" Both nodded eagerly. "Do you want to help me make them?"

"Yes!" Bethany shouted.

Hermione smiled. She had finally found something to do to get the young girl to talk.

"Mommy never lets us help," Bethany said. She left the kitchen. When she came back she had a stepstool in each hand. She set them down so that she and her twin could reach the top of the counter. "Mommy says we would make a mess." Bethany giggled. "We probably would, but messes can be cleaned up."

Hermione agreed with the small girl. She found a bowl and measuring cups and helped the girls to measure out all the ingredients. The twins took turns stirring until the batter got too thick, at which Hermione finished up.

"Can we put in chocolate chips?" Becka asked, licking some batter from her fingers.

"No, blueberries!" Bethany countered.

"Chocolate chips!"

"Blueberries!"

Hermione smiled. "How 'bout we put in both?" she suggested.

"Chocolatey blueberries? You can do that?" Becka asked.

"No, sweetie. We can do half blueberry and half chocolate chip." Hermione dropped a spoonful of batter onto the griddle.

The girls contemplated this for a second before agreeing. "Okay!"

They were helping Hermione do dishes when the front door opened. Hermione seemed to be the only one to hear it as the girls were giggling over the bubble beards they were giving each other. Harry entered the kitchen looking livid.

"Hi, Harry–" Hermione stopped when she saw the look on his face.

"Daddy!" The girls abandoned the sink and ran towards Harry, bubbles flying out behind them. They grabbed him around the waist in a hug that he did not return. "Daddy?"

Harry was staring at Hermione with an expression she could not read. It was a mixture of anger, determination, and something else.

"Girls, why don't you go on up to your room and get dressed. And brush your teeth." Hermione ushered them towards the stairs.

When they were safely in their room, Hermione turned to Harry. He still hadn't moved from the kitchen doorway.

"Harry, what the _hell_?"

He didn't speak.

"How's the baby?" Hermione tried.

"Not mine."

"_What_?" His words made no sense. He still had the look on his face. Hermione now realized what the third part of the expression was: hunger. What for, she wasn't sure.

"The baby's not mine," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Wha–"

"Lauren must have had an affair." Now that he had started talking, it seemed that he couldn't stop. "And all this time, I've stayed here, I've been here for her. I could have been with you. But I was staying with her because of the baby, which isn't even mine." He had completely forgotten what Lauren told him the previous night, that he hadn't, in fact, been there for him at all, that she didn't even know who he was.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Hermione asked, unsure what to say.

"Girl."

"What's her name?"

Harry stopped. He didn't even know.

"Harry?"

"It's not even my baby. Why should I care what her name is?"

Harry wasn't the only one who was angry. Hermione's face flushed with frustration. "It shouldn't matter whose baby it is, Harry."

"But it does."

"No, it doesn't. You made Lauren a part of your life, and this baby is a part of Lauren's. If you're any kind of man, you'll step up and take responsibilities for your actions."

"But it wasn't my actions that got us into this in the first place!" Harry retorted.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and placed her hands on her hips.

"Fine," he gave in. "But Lauren is to blame."

"No one is to blame, Harry! She's not the only one to have made a mistake, to have broken a promise." Harry started to interrupt but Hermione cut him off. "Now is your chance to mend the past, to repair what relationship you two once had."

Harry's eyes flashed. "What if I don't want to?" he asked defiantly.

Hermione glared at him. "You have to." He began to speak, but once again Hermione kept on talking. "If you leave her, she won't have anyone to help her raise this child. And she has two other girls that are counting on you. And she's counting on you too. Harry, she's messed up with men in her past, made the wrong decisions and ended up alone. Please don't do that to her again."

They stared at each other, fuming. Harry opened his mouth to speak when the girls bounded back into the kitchen wearing matching pink outfits.

"Daddy, can we go see the baby now?"

Harry watched Hermione for a moment longer, then looked down to the girls tugging at his jeans. "Yes, let's go."

Hermione watched them go, her emotions going haywire. She wasn't sure if she should be proud of herself, or disgusted that she had her chance and lost it. She decided to go with the former.

"Is it a brother or a sister?" one of the girls asked.

Harry opened the front door. "You girls have a baby sister." Harry's voice held none of its earlier venom.

Hermione could hear their shrieks of joy as the door closed behind them and she decided that she had done the right thing.

She finished cleaning up the kitchen and went to pack up her things. When she left, she was sure that there was no trace she had ever been there.

A/N: The end! Yay! Thanks so much for sticking with me this far. I know it got off to a rocky start and I really appreciate all the helpful comments. If you want to hear more about Lily and the Potter family---well, we'll see. If you want a sequel, send me your ideas ((I need some suggestions!)) and I'll see what I can do.

Bye!


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